Xxxholic Drabbles
by mimma
Summary: Vaguely slashly drabbles, to be updated erratically. Spoilers, though mostly unoticable.
1. Chess

**Chess**

Yuuko does not like chess overmuch.

Clow liked it, though, and _he_ would, what with the pawns and the king and the queen and most of all _sacrifice_.

Another reason not to like that man.

She plays chess with Watanuki and that silly boy mourns every single pawn that he loses and falls to her ruthlessness everytime. Sure, maybe the set was a _lee-tle_ realistic, what with the shouts and screams and victory dances, but that boy doesn't need to be such a _baby_ over them, like they were real people.

Real people are so much easier to use, and to sacrifice.

She makes him take the set to play with his archer boyfriend/bodyguard (she does not, of course, say this to his face. Watanuki is still a very good cook and her board isn't completely set up yet) and laughs when he returns and rages over her penne pasta with white wine and shellfish about the way Doumeki plays.

He eliminates any threat to his king immediately. _Heartless bastard, he plays just like you_, Watanuki says while pouring her wine. _All he cares about is the king_.

One thing Watanuki does not understand about the game as played by Doumeki is that he never seems to care how many pieces he loses, just as long as the king is safe.

Yuuko gulps her wine and call for another bottle; _she_ understands all too well.

It may turn out right yet, the knight may never have to sacrifice _too_ badly for his king, and his king may never have to mourn his warrior.

And then again it may not; destiny's Yuuko's dance but fate is no one's bitch.

For now the board is set, the pieces are moving, and her pawns of Doumeki and Watanuki and that darling little princess from another world and her scholar are almost in place.

Yuuko does not like chess overmuch. Clow does, though, and the game is on.

She wonders idly how the prices will be paid this time, and then how much alcohol it will take for her not to care.

-end-


	2. Scarf

Scarf

It's the first frost of the year, the first cold snap that freezes flowers and kills plants and makes Yuuko gulp down spiced cider by the pint.

It's the first frost of the year, when spirits wrap up warmly and Watanuki hurries home because Yukionna is not a good way to die.

It's the first frost of the year, and Watanuki is bloody _freezing_.

_Doumeki's_ all right, of course, smug bastard, just has a scarf wrapped around his neck and he's okay, not like delicate Watanuki who's run himself ragged slaving after Yuuko and making lunch for that lazy idiot into the bargain.

Watanuki shivering all over the place even with his jacket and gloves, and finally Doumeki just gets tired of him complaining and take off his own scarf to wrap it around Watanuki's neck.

_You're going to get sick_, he tells the other boy, pulling him maybe a little closer than needed to tuck the scarf in. _I can't have you coughing your germs into my lunch_.

Watanuki's so badly affected by the cold that he doesn't even snap back, just looks at Doumeki with half-lidded eyes that make the archer frown and begin to drag him towards Yuuko's heated shop.

Watanuki lags- stumbles against Doumeki, head tilting onto his shoulder and arms curling around his waist unconsciously. Doumeki bites back a curse and pulls Watanuki closer to him by the waist –_to make it easier to move him_, he tells himself, ignoring the brush of warm breath over his neck.

He goes as far as the door and thrusts Watanuki into Maru and Moru's waiting hands.

Walking back to his hime with no scarf on, Doumeki still feels almost unbearably warm, the imprint of Watanuki's body burning against his.

Warming up in Yuuko's shop, Watanuki breathes in the scarf's smell of old places and young man, and tells himself he's just still too cold to take off Doumeki's scarf.

-end-


	3. Amusement

**Amusement**

It is very amusing watching Watanuki try to play chess.

The way he plays is laughable- throwing his characteristic fits over every single lost piece. (Especially when halfway into the game Watanuki is missing half his pieces and Doumeki has a flawless wall around his king.)

He lectures Watanuki because he cannot really help it- tells him about the _entire object of the game, brainless_, and above the _WHO THE HELL IS BRAINLESS?_ he tells him about the _necessity of sacrifice_, _you-who-is-brainless_, and Watanuki snarls something centering on _king should not be all-important, **heartless**_, and Doumeki rolls his eyes and says, _the game is not real life, idiot_.

Watanuki looks away after that statement, and says, _yeah, well, you should hear Yuuko talk sometimes. I swear all that woman thinks of everyone around her are as pawns_.

Doumeki is suddenly struck by Yuuko's matter-of-factness in everything she does and Watanuki's emotionality in everything _he_ does, and thinks that yes, that witch _is_ too cruel to expect him to offer up others for his own well-being and then the archer looks at Watanuki's slightly sick expression and the red-streaked playing board and then he thinks that maybe that _this is what she is teaching him to avoid_.

She's a bitch, life's a bitch, and maybe she's trying to get Watanuki used to the bitchiness of life because he cannot stay in her shop forever.

Or maybe she's just trying to gross Watanuki out. Doumeki certainly doesn't know, and doesn't want to.

_Sometimes it applies in real life_, he points out to take Watanuki's mind off the gurgling sounds some of the 'taken' pieces are now making.

_shouldn't,_ he mutters, and just sweeps the whole thing into a bag to avoid looking at it.

_Yes it does_, says Doumeki in lieu of pointing out that he was winning, _I've taken hits for you before._

_Precisely_, Watanuki says from under his bangs; and that is really everything right there.

Playing chess with Watanuki is amusing. Discussing it with him is disturbing.

Using it as a metaphor for their life is bad for the soul.

-end-


	4. Yuuko has gone too far

"Now what?" demanded Doumeki.

Watanuki shot him an annoyed look. "Yuuko said to wait."

"Wait for what?" said Doumeki, apparently still pissy about Yuuko having snatched both his bow and the tube fox from them before shoving them both down her well.

"Them," Watanuki shrugged. "That's all she said."

"Them," Doumeki repeated with his my-god-I'm-talking-to-an-idiot expression. "Them _what_?"

"Hah?"

The expression intensified. "Them spirits? Them humans? Them robots?"

"…how did you just say all that with a straight face? And anyway, she wouldn't say."

Doumeki rolled his eyes at the smoky not-sky. "…at least if you get attacked we can probably stun them with your supreme stupidity by having you talk to them."

"_Shaddup_," snarled Watanuki, hating the fact that Yuuko had also snatched both their uniform jackets and that if was hot here (so Doumeki had his top buttons undone. Why, kami-sama, why did this unworthy have to tormented by remembering the feel of his torso? _Why?_). "If _you_ could have got more out of her, _you_ go be her slave-boy, and see if you do better."

Doumeki didn't deign to reply.

Watanuki was drawing in breath for a good shout when voices floated towards them.

"-and that man has even taken my _bow_, Watanuki, and now what do you think he's making us do _this_ time?"

"You didn't _have_ to come, Shizuka, I could have handled this myself-"

"Yes," cut in the first derisive, low-pitched female voice. "You could have screamed at them and tried to give them disgusting food. Honestly, why do I bother?"

"…my food is _not_ disgusting," sulked the second girl. "And I don't scream."

The two came into view with the first speaker (a tall girl wearing their school uniform and with Doumeki's deep-set eyes and self-assured stride) saying, "I concede the food. But you scream like an actress in a b-grade horror movie."

The second girl (equally tall, dressed the same but with a cleaning scarf over her ruffled hair and frameless glasses) retorted, "My _life_ is a horror movie," before looking forward and meeting the boys's horrified eyes.

Watanuki and Doumeki stared, speechless, at what appeared to be two female versions of themselves.

"My _god_," the second girl said, mouth falling open. "What the fuck's Yuuko done this time?"

"How interesting," observed the other girl. "Watanuki, you never said you had a twin."

"I _don't_," she yelled. "And anyway-" her pointing finger stabbed towards Doumeki, who, amazingly enough, was beginning to recover from the shock "-_that_ guy looks like you!"

She made a show of carefully looking Doumeki over. "…I don't look that constipated."

A twitch showed under Doumeki's eye. "And if I had a sister, I doubt she would look like that much of an _enjo kosai kogal_." (lit: compensated dating girl who likes expensive stuff, he's calling her a prostitute.)

"_**What** did you call me?_" she snarled, dropping her arm from the other girl's waist and stepping forward.

Watanuki rushed to defuse the situation. "He didn't mean it," he said, stepping into their line of sight. "And none of us are here to fight. If you're the ones, I think we have a package to collect from you…?"

The bespectacled girl seemed to remember her manners. "Oh, yes," she said, digging in the paper shopping bag she dangled on her arm. "I'm sorry for her behavior- she doesn't have any manners whatsoever."

"I apologize for his," Watanuki said, stepping over to her and bowing slightly. "He's a complete savage, really."

They both smiled immensely sweet, helpful smiles in their respective companion's directions. The effect was slightly creepy, especially since girl-Watanuki had bobbed hair the same length as her counterpart.

"Don't _apologize_, Watanuki," they snarled in unison, then glared at each other.

She tossed her waist-length hair. "Let's go, Watanuki."

He turned smartly on his heels. "You're done, aren't you?"

They grabbed their respective Watanukis by the arms and began pulling them back so hard that they both stumbled against the backs of the archers.

"Complete savage?" asked Doumeki tightly when they were out of earshot.

"You're nearly tugging my arm off," pointed out Watanuki, too delighted by the advantage over Doumeki to be truly bitchy.

He heard, faintly, a woman's screech, and then fainter still a delighted cackle of wicked humor. He felt like laughing himself.

Doumeki's back was hard and straight and the archer stalked ramrod stiff with Watanuki chuckling behind. The exorcist guiltily felt reassured at the press of warmth, and thought very hard of what Watanuki would have to make for lunch to apologize.

Both of them.

-end-


	5. Chapter 5

Between Insanity and Stupidity

You're stupid.

Or, maybe you're _not_ stupid, being top in your class and getting straight A's and all, but that's not any better because if you're not stupid then you're insane.

Only insane people would do _this_, fussing over an idiot with a bleeding heart and no brain who's made it perfectly clear what you can do with your help, and having bloody near _panic attacks_ when said idiot doesn't turn up in school and there's no answer from his home phone.

Watanuki, you decide, needs a cell phone. If it takes him the rest of his life to pay you back so much the better.

You skip school- you've _never_ skipped school before, but you figure your perfect attendance record can take a few hits- and trot to the address you lifted out of the school records.

You bang on the door of the cheap apartment- bam, _bam_, and hitting something that solid that hard makes you feel a little better and less like pounding Watanuki's head in or pinning him down and crawling on top of him and- you bang your _head_ against the door and that train of thought floats away. That's an awfully hard door for such a cheap apartment.

When it opens –_finally_, you think- Watanuki's looking all sleep-mussed and flushed and not at all like he should be out of bed at _all_, let alone trying to open a very solid door- and you push forward into the apartment, grabbing him by the waist and checking his temperature and kicking the door shut in one fluid movement.

_You're boiling up_, you say, forestalling all protests by half-dragging him to the room with a futon and dropping him down. You take off his shirt- no funny remarks, _thank you_- and walk into Watanuki's miserable excuse for a kitchen to boil water and fetch ice cubes.

There's something horribly familiar about this, but you ignore it and tell your brain to _shut up_ because down that road lies madness, or at least paranoia. Instead you concentrate on returning his brain to relative lucidity so that he can wake up and listen to you harangue him properly.

Watanuki _still_ doesn't say anything, just watches from beneath fever-hazed lids as you walk around waiting on him for once, reflecting quietly in your mind just how _not_-you this was, out of school and in his house, racking your brain for any sign that this will be something you can deal with.

Eventually, after you've made soup and force-fed it to him, he's recovered enough that he maintains he can spend the night _alone, thank you_ and asks you what the hell you're doing here.

_You were sick_, you inform him.

You watch, amused, as he grapples with those words and what they mean and allow yourself a smirk when, finally, he says, _I don't want to know_.

_Probably not_, you agree,

_You skipped school_, he says, lining up the facts in his head. _Just to come over?_

_I thought you didn't want to know_, you needle him, brushing your fingers just under his fringe. _Your fever's gone down._

He pretends he's not having a panic attack. You pretend that you've forgotten your fingers on his forehead. Voila, you are both in denial, and happy.

_You're insane_, he announces finally, turning his head away. You tap, once and sharp, a drop of pettiness before taking your hand away.

You're insane or you're stupid or somewhere in between, where common sense disappears and delusions fade, and all you can see is him blushing pink before you. You promise yourself, written in, as you imagine, words of fire on your soul, that this is all you will ever see.

-end-


End file.
